Inventing a Tinker

Part 7

Kuduks, as I soon learned, looked rather like humans—grim, stocky humans, with overlarge facial features and a propensity for elaborate beards. We had taken a lift—a remarkable device combining a steam engine, a system of pulleys, and a metal cage full of passengers—to a higher level of Eversall Deep. Here kuduks were everywhere. Though many still wore the common garb of laborers and tradesmen, others were dressed in tailored suits, with cravats and pocketclocks hanging from gold chains. They walked with a wobbling, wide-legged gait, and every one of them seemed to scowl when I noticed them looking my way.

Humans wearing thick iron collars pulled a few hand-drawn carts . They were chained to the cart, and a kuduk with a long pole was prodding them onward from the driver's seat. I gave Jennai a questioning glance, and she shook her head. It was another exception to the wonders of this mechanical world. Humans used as animals. No wonder my work among these kuduks was considered so unusual. One doesn't offer office jobs to a horse or a mule.

Now that I knew to look for it, I saw more collared humans serving kuduk masters. They carried packages, toted well-dressed kuduk women who lounged in chairs, and swept the streets.

Despite the distaste for my fellow humans' treatment, I found the upper levels more civilized. The tunnels were cleaner. The spark lights overhead didn't flicker. When Jennai left me at the entrance to the patent office with a kiss and one final admonition to mind my manners, I was alone among kuduks—a savage stranded among the civilized.

The building was immaculate in its construction, entirely formed of quarried stone that fit tightly like the squares of a quilt without a hint of mortar. It was not just a simple square of masonry either; it but bore arches and columns, all with hardly a seam in evidence. I kept my head low and eyes downcast as I passed beneath the threshold amid a gaggle of kuduks in clean white shirts. It took a moment for me to realize they were dressed much like I was.

Inside, I followed Jennai's vague directions to my desk. She had never been inside, and only had Erefan's anecdotes to parrot back to me. It was enough. I was early, and most of the desks were unoccupied, giving me a chance to scan the name plaques until I found Erefan's. Start time for an office job was apparently much later than Jennai's work at the cannery.

But once I sat down and began flipping through papers in his "for review" tray, things began to come back to me. It was as if I was a machine meant for sorting patent applications into the practical and the implausible. A hand tool meant to aid in the butchering of chickens: approved. A pair of muffs made from rubber to pump in phonograph music directly to the ears: approved. A schematic for a spark device that would cook food by indeterminate means: rejected. A new engine from the Mitterach Company, with improvements referencing an earlier patent: approved, but I spent the better part of an hour in fascinated study.

The day went on like this. There was an interruption around midday when the office broke for lunch. I kept to my desk, both out of a need to cling to the one thing beginning to make sense in this world, as well as a desire to interact with as few kuduks as possible. At the patent office, hardly anyone spoke a word to me, and it was always about the task at hand.

"Erefan!" a deep voice bellowed.

I looked up from a sketch of a spark-powered coffee brewer to see a kuduk with silver-rimmed glasses glowering at me. "Yes, sir?" I inquired, trying to sound as meek as possible. I fared better than I had with Jennai.

"Where's the Kipmar patent? It was marked urgent. They've paid extra for speedy approval, and by magma, we're going to get it approved before end of business today." The kuduk took out a pocketclock and flipped open the face. "Which is in precisely two hours and eleven minutes."

I froze. A lump stuck in my throat. Erefan, if you're in here, now would be a good time to remember, I thought, trying to address the deep parts of my own mind. "I... I'm sure I can... I must have overlooked it... I'll... just a moment." I rifled through the "for review" pile, but the kuduk cut my search short. Snatching the pile away, my kuduk supervisor flipped page by page through the stack, pausing occasionally to lick his stubby fingers.

"There," he said, slapping a packet of papers down in front of me. "By the end of the day, or you're staying after hours until it's done. And there will be no rejecting it."

I pursed my lips and studied the kuduk. He wanted the patent application approved, and didn't care about the details. I took my "approved" stamp, pounded it first on the ink pad, then on the front of the Kipmar patent, then jotted an entry for it in my ledger, all with my boss watching me across the desk.

"You may inform Kipmar that their application was approved without undue delay or scrutiny," I stated, keeping my eyes fixed on my boss's cravat, not wanting to appear defiant. But I couldn't help sneaking a glance up at the kuduk's face. The corner of one lip twitched.

Erefan's boss gave an amused snort. "Good enough," he said. "I knew there was a reason we kept you on. Mind you don't go acting all human again, though." He wagged a finger at me before departing. I let out a tense breath before slouching down in my seat.